Yes, We Have No Bananas

I was 0 for 2 on bike pick ups yesterday. The Dummy wasn't ready (though the hand built wheels are gorgeous!). I'm hoping against hope that Corey can pull off a miracle and finish it today because I *NEED* to have it for bike camping on Tue and the shop is closed tomorrow. Please send helpful bike building vibes his way!

A few blocks over, at Coventry Cycles, the Tikit was all shiny and ready to go. Jeff spent some time adjusting the brakes and shifters to my preferred position--the saddle was already perfect. I took it on a prolonged spin and was amazed again what a great ride it has for such a small wheeled bike! I even found a little gravel and it rolled just fine. And the internal hub is way cool.

Back at the shop, I was turned over to Tom. Tom said, "You're going to pack it into the case and I'll talk you through it." I was relieved, because I know it's a pretty involved process the first time. Even with his help, it took us an hour and fifteen minutes to turn this:

into this:

By the time we finished, I didn't have time to take the bus home with the case, which was my back up plan, since the Dummy wasn't ready. I was really looking forward to carrying two bikes home on another bike--but I'm sure I'll have plenty of opportunity for that.

I will definitely go pick up the Tikit in the Zip Car today after my Portland Century rest stop duties are over--and hopefully (crosses fingers) the Dummy as well.

Check out the little tour I took of the Bike Friday headquarters on my way to Mt Bike Oregon in July:

Update: Clearly, I should have watched this video first:

Muddy, at last

Monday night I went out for my first mountain bike race at the PIR Short Track series. It was only the second time I've actually ridden my new MTB, which I've had for over a month. I managed one ride through Forest Park last week and that was it. So it was all or nothing. I signed up for the whole series because when else am I going to be able to ride great dirt, bumps, single track and gravel 10 minutes ride from my house? Exactly.

Earlier in the day I took my bike down to River City to get a shorter stem. While I was upstairs getting helped, there was another RC employee working on a very nice Cannondale belonging to Sue Butler. Her name sounded kind of familiar, so I figured she was pretty good. Next, I stopped by Cyclepath on the continuing search for a saddle that doesn't make me scream after 10 minutes. Bill offered me not one, but two test ride saddles and let me take them for a week. Brilliant! Why has no one ever done this before? There's no way you can really know if a saddle is going to work without some serious ride time. Especially on a MTB, there's no garuantee of keeping it unscuffed enough to return if things don't work out.

At home, I was running late, as usual and had just enough time to pop one of the test saddles on, throw on my kit and ride to PIR. Did I mention it's only 10 minutes from my house? Bliss.

When I arrived, the junior and beginner women's clinic had already started. I still needed to register, but I didn't want to miss some nugget of information that might help me survive the race. I rolled up, and who was holding court, but Sue Butler. She and another woman took us in two groups pre-ride the course.

The problem with riding the course slowly is that a lot of the obstacles require speed in order to clear them. There was literally a huge pile of gravel in the middle of the start lap. I might have freaked out about it, but I didn't want to look wimpy in front of Sue, so I just waited till everyone else was at the top and then rammed my way up. Speed is your friend.

My favorite section by far was the whoop-de-do hills, or whatever you call them. Sue showed us how to push down at the right time to increase speed. And I loved her tip for climbing more effieciently: "Boobs to the tube!" In other words, keep your center of gravity low. One thing not to do is stand up and pedal, especially not on a full suspension bike, as that is just asking for back tire spin out.

We circled into the trees and rounded a sharp corner into several very small, compact bumps. A guy blew by us and promptly crashed in the middle. "Doesn't it make you feel better to see the guys crashing too?" said Sue. "We scheduled that just for you, ladies." Then someone in our group tried it, with not much better results. Sue demonstrated and advised us to keep out pedals level while cresting the bumps, so you don't hit your pedals. But that assumes you have enough momentum to stop pedaling and still crest the bump. Easier said than done. I don't like to think too hard about technical obstacles when I'm on the MTB so I cut ahead and just barely cleared the bumps.

After that I went ahead of the group and finished the lap. I was stressing out about registering. I meant to register by mail earlier in the week but I forgot that stamps went up. I got in line with about 20 minutes to go until my race start.

I saw a young girl also in Sorella uniform and figured she must be our newly sponsored junior racer. I felt really bad about not having time to say hello and gave her a couple of smiles. By the time I finished registering, they were calling up the kiddy racers and I still had to pee and fiddle with my tire pressure. I let out too much air and then had to rush over to the Chris King booth to use their pump. And my saddle had loosened on the ride over, so I ended up stuffing my multi-tool in my jersey and running over to the start line, where everyone was already lined up. I just had time to tighten the seat and hope it was in a decent position. I stashed the tool between two fence posts and squeezed my way up into the women's field right before the beginner men were sent off.

I'd been nervous about the race for most of the afternoon, but there was no time for that now. Thirty seconds after the men, our horn sounded and we were off.

My goals in this race were, as in every race, to keep the rubber side down and have a good time. I really could care less about my finishing place, so I let most of the riders surge ahead of me on the nice wide starting straight. It was much easier to navigate the course now that the race was on and there wasn't much time to think.

I got passed by most of the women I think, but I managed to pass some little kids, so I felt good about that. On the first lap, we had to go through a lovingly hand-made mud pit. There was really no good line, so I just down shifted and pedaled like crazy and made it through. Then there was a super twisty single track section through some dirt piles and then the whoop de do hills. The tree sections had lots of sharp turns but I took it easy. When I got almost to the end of the first lap, I went through a short muddy section and up a steep hill. There was a very good course marshall (or maybe he was just a super helpful spectator), who was always yelling encouragement and helpful advice. He reminded me to quit looking down and instead look out and ahead at where I wanted to go.

I did about three laps I think. After the first lap, I just settled in and literally enjoyed the ride. I passed one woman who was walking her bike, but still moving forward. Good for her. For next week, I need to work on faster passing, tighter corners and pushing a bigger gear on the non technical areas. For the most part, I seemed to have no trouble being in the right gear at the right time.

When it was over, I felt completely toasted. My throat was on fire from the dust and I literally couldn't talk for about five minutes. My friends Simon and Laura, who came to cheer me on, came over and watched me heave and spit for a few minutes while I downed water. If I could just skip the 20 minutes or so immediately after the race, that would be perfect. After a while, I started feeling human again and could chat normally. I saw the Sport women's race go off with Sage (my Urban Assault partner) right in the mix. And I chatted with Laura, a new teammate I hadn't met yet. I didn't find Sasha (our new Jr racer) but will definitely chat her up next week, since I am now registered for the whole series (and plan to arrive nice and early!).

My bike is now appropriately muddy, which makes me very happy. I don't feel like such a poser. I'm definitely looking forward to more racing next week!

ETA: In the men's single speed race that happened just after ours, one of the racers, Colby Brooks, collapsed near the start/finish area. When I could breath again, I went over there to take pictures of the race and saw several people surrounding him and sharing CPR duty. He did not crash, probably his heart gave out, as people said he just collapsed at that corner of the track. Time seemed to slow down. It felt like they were doing CPR forever, and I didn't think he was going to make it, but the EMTs arrived and got him stabalized and he is reported to be doing well and recovering. I have to give huge credit to Mike Murray for having an awesome organized team, medical personal etc. There's a lot of second guessing going on over at bikeportland.org about whether the race should have been stopped, but as far as I can see, things were handled with minimum panic and maximum efficiency. And Colby is alive. I'm sure as far as he and his loved ones are concerned, everything was done perfectly. Get well soon Colby.

EATA (Edited Again To Add):

The results are in and I placed 11th. Not that I'm competitive or anything.

Urban Assault Ride

Yesterday, my Sorella teammate, Sage and I participated in the Urban Assault Ride. They lived up to their claim that it would be the most fun I've had on a bike all year.

It's sort of a combination road race, 'cross race, scavenger hunt and obstacle course. They warn that you might get wet and this was entirely accurate. The light sprinkle that was *supposed* to clear up to just cloudy and warm, instead became a downpour. If you'd told me that I would one day go out riding for over two hours in 50 degree rain wearing Keen sandals, I would've said you were crazy. But it actually wasn't that bad, thanks to race adrenalin and wool socks.

Before the race, there is a bonus quiz that you take to determine your start order. The quiz can give you as much as a 10 minute head start on your competition, so I spent way too much time and enlisted Jess's help, to try to find some of the answers. Here's a question that gives you an idea how hard the quiz is:

16. Swobo sells an item of clothing made of a material that comes from a distant land. Also from this country is a cyclist who many consider to be one of the greatest ever. One time in the Tour de France, he was in a breakaway with a teammate and a rival rider. He rode off the road and into a ditch. What was the name of the teammate that waited for him?

Our 75% score (the highest score was 89%) put us in the first wave.

There were six regular check points and two mystery checkpoints. I SUCK at figuring out clues, so I used my people skills instead and talked others into giving me both answers. You have to devise your own route between check points, so I planned out a clockwise route that would also give us the most downhill cruising.

At the start, we ran to our bikes and headed to REI, the first mystery check point, which fortunately, was right on my pre-planned route. It seemed most racers had the same idea. One person forgot this was supposed to be for fun and promptly went down hard on the tracks that curve on 10th and Morrison. Ouch.

I was feeling competitive, but as always, my first rule was to keep the rubber side down. I'd had a bike crisis that morning because of the foul weather, but Jess convinced me to keep my road bike as my vehicle of choice. It was a good thing too, because there was no way I ever would have kept up with Sage without it. There was also some scrambling involving the rules, since I had been completely misinformed by the woman at packet pick up, that we only had to go to seven of the eight checkpoints. It took some doing to find someone who knew the answer to this but I was very glad I checked.

At the Fat Tire Farm stop, there was bike jousting, catching rings on the joust pole. Then it was off to the NE Community Cycling Center to find a fairy on a bike who would give us our check point bead. We found him alright, but he wouldn't stop (even though Sage said 'Please' very nicely) until I cut him off.

After that we screamed down 33rd Ave toward Laurelhurst park. We saw another Sorella team mate, Kim, heading up the same street with her husband. They'd decided to go the opposite route from most folks. Kim is an excellent climber but there's no way I would have survived that route. And we finished a few minutes ahead of them despite some crowds at the challenges.

At the park, Jess was waiting for us, but didn't take many pictures. It was pouring rain by this time and she was soaked from riding around to check points trying to keep up with us. There were two challenges, keg walking--which Sage couldn't do in her bike shoes, so she promptly took them off. Those kegs aren't flat, and she still had a hard time (it looked painful) but she perservered. I found it much easier in sandals. Then it was over to the human wheel barrow challenge. I chose to carry, thinking Sage had bigger arms and would fare better standing on her shoulders, while I used mostly leg strength to push her along. We only fell twice winding between the orange cones. After we finished, she revealed that she'd been eating ice cream every day for the past week. Thanks partner. :)

The next challenge was only a few blocks away at Sunnyside school. Sage and I both rocked the bike limbo (on our own bikes) in one try. The hardest challenge was yet to come, at the Plan B Bar. A bag toss with the target hole on the ground about twenty feet away. Thankfully, if you didn't get four bags in, you could still leave after ten minutes. You could switch off at will so we both took tries and actually made our goal with a minute to spare.

Next up, River City Bikes and my favorite on-course challenge: a real live version of the Paper Boy video game. I rode a small red banana seat bike around in circles, tossing papers to Sage, who caught them in a plastic bin. We got our three catches in four tries and then it was over the bridge to the finish at Pioneer Square. Of course, we couldn't just ride in and be done. We were directed to put our bikes in a secure coral and then sent over to grab a big wheel and do a quick loop around a twisty course that invited lots of skidding out. I absolutely could NOT stop smiling riding that thing. Then off with our shoes and into a huge blow up obstacle course that was filled with puddles of muddy water from rain and previous contestants. By that time, we were too close to finishing for me to care so I threw myself into it with glee. We slide into the finish, completely soaked, but our reward was a second place finish in the women's division!

For our efforts, we got the prize I'd actually been hoping for--free Keen shoes, and some UAR socks. The winners got custom made UAR Timbuk2 bags. Thought they looked really cool, I definitely don't need any more bags. I don't need any more shoes either, but Keen finally came out with a clipless pedal version of their sandals and I've been wishing for a pair since they came out.

We retreated to the Visitor's center where I put on dry clothes (thanks to Jess) and we huddled under the bathroom dryers getting warm. The rain finally stopped and it actually warmed up a little so we went back out to enjoy the finish line party, which included a band and the mini-bike limbo contest. We also took a few more loops on the big wheel course. I may need to buy one. PMS crankiness is no match for the smiley power of the big wheel!

I got third in the limbo contest and just missed taking home one of those cool bags. Then we hung out some more while had a very long raffle and gave away literally tubs full of cool prizes, like bike computers, wool jerseys, hats, t-shirts, biodegradable lube etc. We didn't win anything, but the day was already such a success, I didn't mind.

Finally, we crawled home and Jess and I spent the rest of the night uploading pictures. You should go check them out here and here.

Next year, Jess will be all healed up and I'm sure we'll have a blast riding the course together. I can't wait.

Some People Mature: Other's Just Age

Tomorrow's my birthday but I'm not quite ready for the pasture yet. Making good on a promise made many months ago, I took my bike out to Portland International Raceway for the Monday night novice women's race.

My goals were to stay upright, and to not throw up and I achieved them both.

I had no idea what kind of speed I could maintain, being much more out of shape than the last (and only other) time I tried this about three years ago. I kept up with the pack for about two laps and then started to fade. This turns out to be a good thing, since it wasn't long after that I came upon about four riders who had crashed on a turn. Most of them were already up, but Heather was on the ground moaning. It looked like she landed on her hip, and then Penny landed on her. Not good.

I stopped and we helped get her off the track. Then I rode with one of the Ironclad riders, who's leg was swelling into something epic and horrible-looking, back to the start, where she could see the medic. I had heard her talking to the medic earlier and saying something like, "I hope not to see you again." Total jinx.

Penny decided that's it for her racing career. She said she saw her summer "flash before her eyes," of not being able to ride and it wasn't worth the risk. I can't say I blame her. I will go back, but I have a tendency to drift towards the back of the back to avoid just such mishaps. I suppose surging to the front would also be a safe option, but that's not physically possible at this time. Maybe by the end of the summer...

Jess and her friend T came out to watch and took a couple of pictures. The weather at least, was perfect, cooling down from an 80 degree peak with cloud cover moving in. After my escorting duty was done, I kept riding until the women's race was over, which gave me a total of five laps, just one shy of the real race. I was happy to discover that I actually got faster as the race went on. I think I will do a longer warm up next time.

Tomorrow will be low-key as birthdays go, filled with catch up studying, drawing live nude girls in art class and dropping off ballots. But there will be Cold Stone. Can't let the day be totally boring (not that live nude girls is boring). But Jess did take me to the beach this past weekend where we had superb weather and the nicest hike I've been on in a while. Head on over to my Flickr page and check it out.

My New Mountain Bike, Let Me Show You It

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

It's been almost exactly one year since those crackhead Sorellas gave me a free hit of MTB at an all-day clinic and sent me on my way. The conclusion was inevitable. Happy trails to me...

Don't Get Any Ideas!

 

This was J's refrain throughout our viewing of the Banff Film Festival World Tour this evening.  I didn't count how many times she said it, but it was definitely more than twenty.

If I were going to get ideas, there were plenty of excellent suggestions for getting yourself hurt or killed.  Speed Flying (you can actually see the entire film on YouTube) is basically throwing yourself from the top of a mountain with skis and a parasail attached and hoping for the best.  What's funny is how the guys talk about how much easier it is on your body than regular skiing and how they can picture themselves doing it until they're old--as if there were much chance of them actually getting old while participating in such a dangerous sport.  The first item in the credits was a dedication in remembrance of _______.  Wake up and smell the danger, people! 

I guess the film festival is going on ten years now and it must be good every year because you have to buy your tickets not knowing what films they're going to show.  We weren't disappointed. Among my favorites were the one about a woman's search for coastal wolves in western Canada (look for the clip of her laying in the middle of a field while a pack of wolves curiously checks her out).  A film about some unicycle riders who are 'taking it to the next level' (Uni-mountain biking? Why not?)  After that film, the host announced that their unicycles do have special shocks in them and that the audience should NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. 

Did you see the climber who makes a leap from one patch of rock to another, misses and falls?  No, he didn't have a rope.  He's a deep sea climber.  He finds impossible looking overhangs in the water--so you have a nice soft (not) cushion of seawater to 'break' your fall, after which you can get stung by swarms of jelly fish.  Honestly, I don't know what Jess is worried about.  It was seriously impressive though. Some of the holds he was doing would give Spiderman a run for his money.

Other films included footage of high mountain skiers (it's not IF you'll start an avalanche, but when), a climbing photographer and two very well done animations.  The first, Badger, was a humorous meditation on how ground dwelling animals are affected by our mucking about with the planet.  The second, a stunningly animated two-minute piece about the mental challenges of ice climbing.

As if we weren't having enough fun, Jess won a really cool raffle prize that looks to be just my size...

If I don't post for a few days, it's just cause I'm out base jumping.

Mother of Satan Gives Good Concert

We went down to the Crystal Ballroom to hear Ani Difranco play tonight.  Ani is one of the few people who are actually worth all the crap you have to put up with to try to get close to the stage at an all ages, standing room only show.  Despite arriving only 30 minutes before the doors opened (our friend who was hugging the stage was there at 4:00pm), we got a pretty decent spot only about five feet away from the stage.

Then there were the tall people to deal with, who don't seem to feel any guilt at all about towering in front of everyone when they could see perfectly well over our heads if they stepped to the side a few feet.  I think there should be affirmative action for short people at concerts. (There was one guy who apparently spent the whole show on his knees---chivalry is not dead! Ani was astonished when he finally stood up during the encore and she personally invited him to dance along to the next tune). 

Before the opener, we sat on the floor and Jess and I shared earphones and listened to upbeat Ani favorites on my Ipod.  Just before the show started I went to the bathroom and Jess was hard pressed to 'save my spot' but I wiggled my way back in.  Then she decided to buy a T-shirt.  For all the Ani shows we've both been to over the years, neither one of us owns a single Ani shirt.  She went off through the crowd and I assumed a variation of triangle pose to keep her space open.  Attitude is at least as important as positioning when trying to keep your space in a crowd and I gave off all the no-nonsense 'immovable object' vibes I could muster.

The opening act was a poet named Judy Grann (?) and Animal (formerly of Bitch and Animal).  I have never liked an opener at an Ani show, but they were less bad than others I've seen, and mercifully brief.

As soon as the crew came out to set the stage, the crowd started it's relentless forward press.  I had my little back pack with me and I stuffed my coat, water bottle and everything else I had in it, making a nice little round personal space bubble behind me that was invaluable for the rest of the evening.

Finally Ani came out.  It's the first time in a while that I've seen her with a full band (drums, xylophone, upright base).  She didn't beat around the bush, but got right too it, starting out with an old favorite.  For the next 90 minutes, she played her guts out.  She was in a great mood and she loves Portland. "Portland, you give good day off," she said of hanging out yesterday.  Her energy was electric and by the end, I felt she'd left her blood, bones and muscle in a puddle on the stage.  I could tell she was getting tired, but she never slacked off.

The only low point was during the encore when some woman suddenly appeared in front of us and proceeded to throw herself around as if she were the only person in the room.  She must have known she was wrong because she at least had the grace to scrunch down so as not to block our view.  Eventually I moved to stand next to her with Jess behind me but we continued to have to fight and give her the constant elbow to have any space.  Things came to a head when the POIG* she was with suddenly surged in front of me to get back to her, pushing the woman in front of me pretty hard.  They started posturing and shoving back and forth as if they were actually stupid enough to break out into a fight during 32 Flavors.  I ignored them as much as possible, but it's people like them that make me wish I carried a few poison darts in my bag.

No matter how annoying the crowd though, the show is always worth it--even when I don't end up on stage.

We never did find out what was up with the gorilla.

*Person of Indeterminate Gender

River City Ride

Today was the first hot day of spring so I thought it might be a good time to get requainted with my road bike. To keep me honest, I agreed to lead the Saturday ride from River City Bikes. We had a great turn out, no surprise, considering that two weeks ago, hardier rider than I were slogging though snow and hail on their morning ride.

About 14 riders showed up including Chris, Laura, Anne, Ronda, Shari, Connie, Julia, Bree, Shari M, Shari J, two Emily's, two Amy's and a partridge in a pear tree. As someone who doesn't remember names well, I always appreciate it when my odds go up so thanks to all the doubles. :)

We started out on my not-very-original-but-out-of-shape-friendly two mountain loop route heading south on the Eastbank Esplanade. I don't have photos from this section, since it would've been worth my life to try any on-bike photography amid the mass of humanity out enjoying the sun. As it was we watched a clueless, helmet-less (isn't that the same thing?) women on a mountain bike with headphones on almost take out some pedestrians on the trail as we passed her and then, a mile later, after she decided to sprint ahead of us, she came to a dead stop right in front of our group, on a bridge, with no warning. Happy trails to you too.

Thanks to Sage for reminding me about all the construction on the 205 trail right now. We found the detours and they're not too bad. There was a baby hill passing Lents park to get us used to the idea before we got to Rocky Butte. :) Speed varied widely amongst the group but we regrouped fairly often. We took a circuitous route to the butte by way of looping around Prescott, 72nd and Skidmore. We lost Shari M, Connie and Chris to a vicious plastic bag that decided to attack Chris's deraillure but they took a short cut and beat us to the start of the climb anyway.

After a screaming fun descent (41.7mph :), Julia split off with 2/3rds of the group to head up to Marine Drive while I took a small bunch south towards Mt Tabor. We lost a couple more who needed to get back or were passing by their house and the four remaining riders decided one mountain was plenty for the day, so we skirted Tabor and headed down the loveliest bike blvd in the city and through Ladd's Edition back to the shop. As we sat on 7th waiting to turn left, the car in on the opposite side of the street started honking and I heard my name being yelled.

"What is that guy's problem?"

But it wasn't a jerk driver, it was Jon Benenate, giving very enthusiastic greetings. We met up at a red light at Belmont and MLK. "You guys are looking really fast," he complimented. The key word being 'look' at least in my case.

The light turned and we started across the street. A postal worker was crossing the other direction and she too, turned and yelled my name. I turned just in time to see a familiar face, but couldn't place a name or a context. I'm used to that by now and I gave her hasty wave.

"Wow, you're famous," said Laura.

Inside River City, we ran into Sandra and I met Sage in person finally. Sage and are signed up for the Urban Assault Ride next month and it should be a blast.

Now I've had some lunch and ice cream and I'm off to visit my new boyfriend.

In which I Admit I Have a Problem

I caved.

The cable guy comes next Thursday, just in time to add Scifi channel so I can get BSG on Friday.

I miss family (or roommate) Buffy/Angel nights, Xena parties, and having someone to watch my favorite sci-fi shows with. (Yeah I ended on a preposition. What are you going to do about it?) 

Jess and I have a freakish amount of things in common, but the sci-fi, it make her run screaming from the room, no matter how many times I tell her it's just a political commentary set in space...  Yeah, I tried telling her about the hot babes too. No joy. 

Guess it'll just be me, Starbuck, Athena and some popcorn.

So say we all.

What the Frak is Going On?

You know how there's this date that is officially called 'the start of spring' but it may or may not have anything to do with the onset of spring-like weather?

I know the writer's strike 'officially' ended a few weeks ago, but as far as I'm concerned, the real writer's strike ends tomorrow when Battlestar Galactica begins it's fourth and final season.

After a painful period of withdrawal, I managed to forget for a while, that Ron Moore had made me into his puppet, but now, the strings are stretched taught. I managed to hold out for a couple of years, but thanks to the Evil that is Netflix, I dipped my toe into BSG waters and sank in over my head.  If I could have, I'm sure I would have gone through the entire series without sleeping.  As it was, I had responsibilities to tend to, so it took me a few months.

I'm not going to embarrass myself by pretending I can wait for the fourth season to finish and come out on DVD.  I don't have the Scifi channel, but somehow, someway, I'll figure out how to see the episodes every week.  The first one at least, is airing on the scifi web site tomorrow.

One down, twenty-three to go.  This is going to be so good.

Time

It seems as if everyone in my social circle has forgotten all concept of advanced notice this week. In the past few days I have gotten invitations to a music performance by one of my friends, a birthday party, a one year anniversary, a dinner party, a visit from an out of town friend and a Vagina Monologues performance dedicated to my mother.

The time differential separating the invitation from the event has been at best, five days and at worst, 20 minutes. One event I really want to attend and one I really should  attend. Some I might have attended, had I known earlier.

Two plans have been changed and at least one person is getting really annoyed by this new and disturbing trend. If you're reading this and you have a party, event, bar mitzvah whatever that you'd like to me to attend--a couple of weeks notice would be much appreciated.

Buzzed

Last Friday we went to Jimmy Mak's to hear Stephanie play.  She's recording a new album with Keith Shriner of Dahlia and they're working on a whole new sound. 

We got a great parking spot for downtown on a Friday night and as we approached the bar, I saw a guy wandering down the block with an open Mac, searching for wifi, which I thought only happened on TV commercials.  As we got closer, I said, "Tony!? What are you doing?"  Tony is Steph's bf and a fabulous musician.  Turned out he was trying to book a nice hotel for a stop on his next tour--but he gave up and followed us in.

Steph and Keith played together the first set, with him doing electronica beats and prerecorded backup vocals over Steph's solo playing.  It doesn't sound very exciting in print, but it was amazing.  And Keith was so cute, sitting here in front of his Mac, a skinny white guy with a little gangster knit cap with a brim, rocking back and forth, pushing buttons and adjusting levers.  I suspected, and later confirmed, that the vocals were being mixed in on the spot, which upped the cool factor by about fifty.

Steph kinda ruined their cool rock star image though when she shared the details of their recording environment. They record in the basement of Keith's house, which is pretty standard, but above them is a house full of children, wards of the daycare run by Keith's wife. So after laying down some really sexy track, they go upstairs and wait in a line of three year olds for the bathroom.  Ah the life of an artist.

It seems like it's getting to be tradition for me to get a little drunk when I go to JM's to hear Steph.  It's always preceded by a full day of working on my dead mom's house, which seems like as good an excuse to drink as any. 

The first time was six months ago, and I'd been working on sorting out the many boxes of stuff in the basement.  Jess, who drinks occasionally, ordered a margarita and when I started taking sips, suggested I get my own.  I was pretty cranky at that point, so I did, figuring it would mellow me out.

We had a large group and the waitresses had been rude to us from the moment we walked in, which didn't help my mood.  It took thirty minutes just to get my drink.  When it finally came, all eyes were on me while I sipped it slowly.  "Areyoubuzzedyet, Areyoubuzzedyet, Areyoubuzzedyet?" 

"No, I don't feel anything." I said.

But about halfway into my glass, my brain got fuzzy and my mood got much better.  Everything was suddenly hysterical for some reason.  I proceeded to become a textbook first time drunk, talking loudly, laughing hysterically, and announcing my condition to anyone who would listen. 

I immediately understood two things: A) Why I hadn't done this before and B) how people get very hooked on chasing the buzz.  It was a nice reprieve from my mood, but as a coping mechanism, I thought my usual brownies and ice cream was probably a more economical choice--and certainly kinder to my liver.

Though we'd ridden our bikes to the show, Jess threatened to make me ride home in the car with my sister.  I suggested we kill some time by walking (unsteadily) over to Cacao for drinking chocolate, which we did.  By the time we came back to our steeds, I had sobered up enough to ride and still beat Jess up the Interstate Hill.

So here we were back at the Mak after a day of contractor estimates and looking at carpet samples to replace the smoke stained mess in mom's bedroom.  Our friend John made a reservation and invited us to join his table, and J's friend T as well so we had a great table facing the stage just a few rows back.  We're pretty sure that John is a lesbian trapped in a man's body, cause he loves hanging out with us.  He's pretty fun to be around and it's always nice to meet cool guys that don't creep us out.

I decided twice a year was probably an OK drinking schedule so J and I ordered something called JB's Live which involved raspberry vodka.  It was sweet, which I like in a drink and we split it about 60/40.  Since Jess was driving I felt I should take one for the team and consume the majority of the alcohol.

My goal this time was to play cool once my buzz hit and I succeeded pretty well.  I did give a big "WHOO HOO!" when Steph forshadowed the first few chords of "Guilty" but was quick to assure everyone at the table that I would have done the same thing sober.

Everything was on the D.L. until about halfway through the second set. Stephanie was getting ready to play "Salty Blues" but she was sick of telling the story.

"I've told this story way too many times," she said.  "I'm sure there's someone here who can tell this story."

And before you could say 'impaired judgement,' my hand went up and I found myself volunteering. "I can tell it!" I announced boldly.

Steph was thrilled. "Kronda! Great, I trust you. Tell the story."

I stood up, thinking to myself, you are so drunk. This is a really bad idea.  But it was too late.  I tried to pull my thoughts into some sort of coherence.  Keep it simple.

"Well, Stephanie had this boyfriend, and they broke up," I started.

Steph laughed.  "That seems to be the beginning of every story," she deadpanned.

I went on. "And then she got a pocket phone call from the the guy, does everyone know what that is? It's when your phone dials accidentally 'cause it's in your pocket and it's really tight..." I saw heads nodding in recognition so I went on.  "So she listened in--but not that long--maybe 5-10 minutes tops, right Steph?"

The whole audience burst out laughing.  Oh yeah, I forgot that part was funny---

"And he was on a date!  And he was being really charming and saying all this stuff he never said to Steph." OK, wrap it up before things get out of hand...  "And the moral of the story is, don't piss off a song writer.  Hit it Steph."

I sat down.  The whole thing had probably taken just over a minute. I was quite pleased with myself for not having rambled and felt like I'd gotten away with smoking a cigarette* without my parents finding out, but I shouldn't push my luck.  People were applauding and Steph said I was hired to come to all her shows and set up songs.  And that she'd buy me a drink later, which I was sure I didn't need, as we had finished the first one and moved on to a margarita when I started to lose my buzz.

The song was lovely as usual, one of my favorites.  I sat quietly for the next few songs, keeping a low profile.  And then, in the silence between songs, Steph suddenly called me..

"Kronda!"

"What?" don'tpanic don'tpanic don'tpanic...

"I'm gonna go set up for the next song.  Tell the story."

Oh crap.  It wasn't so much that I was scraping the bottom of my margarita by this time as that I couldn't really remember the story that well.  She was headed for the piano, which I knew meant "Professor Sunshine" was next.  But my mind was a fuzzy drunken blank.  "Uh..I don't really remember..."

"You can do it, I'll help you," she said as she walked back and started adjusting a mic.

Clearly I couldn't let her down so I stood up. "Um...it's Amelia right?" I started.

"Yup."

"Uh...so there's this dancer named Amelia--except that's not her real name, Steph made it up.  And she disappeared." I knew I was missing something important.  "And um...this professor, he came to see her all the time but one night she didnt show up and never came back.  And this is Steph's version of events."

I sat down, feeling unsatisfied with my rendition, but everyone applauded even more than the last time.   Steph added what I'd forgotten--that the club was a 'gentleman's club' and the dancer nicknamed the guy "Sunshine," so everyone called him Professor Sunshine. It's not known if he was actually a professor or not.

"I'll do better when I'm sober!" I said, feeling bad.

"You did great," she assured me and started the song.

I wasn't called on again, much to my relief and my buzz was wearing off by the time the show ended, although I still felt pretty wobbly.  I had a ton of fun though and I can't wait for the new record to come out.

My designated driver got us safely home and I woke up the next morning, none the worse for wear.

Reward

LiveJournal Tags: 2008,play

When I was in elementary school and my sister and I got good grades, my parents would sometimes take us to Benihana for dinner as a reward.  And later, we'd go for birthdays and other special occasions.  Their fried rice is my favorite in the city--probably more to do with nostalgia than objectivity.  And how can you not love food that has been cooked in front of you while your chef throws shrimp tails into his hat and makes volcanoes out of onion rings? 

I've been thinking about Benihana a lot for the past month or two and since my grades were all A's, I decided to treat myself to a totally indulgent dinner out.  I went alone.  Jess doesn't generally like Chinese (or in this case Japanese) food, and they only have one vegetarian option anyway.  I lucked out and got a table with a family of five who didn't feel the need to talk to me. I read contentedly during most of the cooking.

Usually, I get the Benihana Delight with chicken and shrimp, but I really wanted scallops and life is short so I went for the seafood combo and didn't regret it.  Except when it was over and I wished I could come back again the next night.

When I was little the chef hats were color coded so you could tell who was still in training.  Green hats were OK chefs, but red hats were the best.  Now it seems everyone has red hats, so I'm not sure if the system is still in place.  Our chef had horrible aim and seemed to just toss the shrimp tails at people randomly.  But he did make a good volcano and more importantly, the food was scrumptious.  I always ask for a side of the ginger salad dressing as an extra dip.  It's also a good way to end up with extra you can take home, without paying $4.00 for a side.  I figured I was giving them enough money anyway. 

I probably should've stopped eating a lot sooner than I did, but it was so good, I just decided to see how much my belly could stretch.  I did manage to take home a little bit of leftover shrimp and veggies which were excellent the next day.

I expect I'll work very hard when school starts again on Monday.

I don't think I'm going to learn this in yoga

I've been deeply pained that I couldn't afford to see the latest Cirque du Soliel show in Portland this past month. So I decided to sublimate my pain with Cirque videos from Netflix. So far, it's working pretty well. And in moments like the one pictured here, it's really nice to be able to rewind and freeze frame so I can tilt my head to the side and go "How?????"  What I love about Cirque is how they think up really hard things and then say, "Now what would be impossible?  And then do that.  Enjoy the moving version of this balancing act below.

How to Have a Weekend

I tried this new thing all the cool kids are doing this past weekend: I had some fun.

Sure I had to stay up till 4:30am Saturday morning to finish enough homework to justify it, but it was worth it. I think it's the first weekend I've had all term that I wasn't super stressed out about finishing something.

It wasn't easy to get out of work mode, but I managed.

Saturday:

Slept until noonish and made Challah French toast for breakfast. Later we met up with Jess's friends T & L to help them with their bike shopping. We met at River City to start. It was a MADHOUSE. I haven't seen it like that since last summer. Turns out they're having a spring sale and it was a Saturday with pretty nice weather. Do the math.

While T & L tried out a few Specialized Globes, I took another spin on the Cannondale Rush mountain bike. I tried this bike out a few weeks ago when I test rode a bunch of stuff. I thought I had my heart set on a Specialized, but those all felt weird and this bike fit the best. Not to mention a large percentage of RC employees own and race this bike. That's a pretty big endorsement, considering that most of them get new bikes every year. Our sales guy was going on his third year with the Rush. The big question is how I'm going to fit another bike into our garage, especially in it's current state of disarray...

From there we went to Urban Grind for caffenation before moving on to REI, where we had one of the most painful shopping experiences I've ever had. I had someone paged to help us (REI is also having a sale, go figure) and he promptly helped someone else ahead of us. Another 10 minutes of waiting got us another employee, who didn't listen, was sort of rude and not very helpful. Then he deserted us and in his stead, brought over a woman who was just dumb. I had to ask the same question about six times and I did more to help them try out the bikes than she did.

Before we left, I used my dividend refund and a coupon to get the last winter item on my list (smartwool base layer shirt) and some new hiking pants.

We decompressed from insane shopping world with a short hike on the Macleay trail in Forest park. I really should go up there more often. Maybe I'll do that in my spare time between 2-4am.

Sunday:

We stayed up late (again) and slept late (again). A game of phone tag with Ru ended in the mid afternoon with confirmed plans for dinner at Laughing Planet later. Then she made fun of us for still being inside on such a gorgeous day.

So I prodded us into going for a walk. I even wore 'summer' clothes, in the form of capris pants and sandals. It was plenty warm when we left, and we wandered south and east towards our friend Rox's house. She and her gf J were in Sunday chill mode and we ended up visiting with them for several hours. R loaned us her car to go to dinner so we could stay longer and come back for J's fire spinning later that night in the backyard. Jess and I both took pictures but as usual, she got the money shot:



That one is from her new camera on Fireworks mode. My camera doesn't have that feature, but nightscene worked some pretty cool magic as well:



I have some video as well, which I'm sure I'll upload to Youtube--in my spare time between (say it with me now) 2 and 4am.

It was nice having some guilt-free time off and now it's back to the books for one last push.